


Case Closed

by linndechir



Category: Frey & McGray Series - Oscar de Muriel
Genre: Desk Sex, Kissing, M/M, Manhandling, Office Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir
Summary: It was almost two in the morning, I was tired and thoroughly sick of the past week, and I couldn’t wait to leave and escape from McGray’s smug grin. He was truly unbearable when he was in a better mood than me.
Relationships: Ian Frey/Adolphus McGray
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Case Closed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



Case closed.

Usually that would have given me a profound sense of satisfaction – I would have headed home for a long, hot bath, gone to bed, and then slept at least until midday, proud of a job well done and hoping McGray wouldn’t draw me into the next absurd investigation too soon.

But as I was on my way down to the Dump to drop off my notes before going home, since I hardly needed them anymore, I was in a fouler mood than I’d been in a while. It was almost two in the morning, I was tired and thoroughly sick of the past week, and I couldn’t wait to leave and escape from McGray’s smug grin. He was truly unbearable when he was in a better mood than me.

“What’s got ye huffing about, Percy?” he asked as he came in behind me. He watched me shove my notes in the lowest drawer of the desk where I wouldn’t have to see them again – I had been tempted to throw them messily over my desk, but it was the one place in this pigsty McGray called an office that was somewhat neat and I liked to keep it that way. When I glanced back, he’d closed the door and was leaning against it. He looked as tired as I felt, but with McGray that was a constant, and the self-satisfied grin on his face actually made him look younger than usual. On a different night, I might have liked that twinkle in his blue eyes. “We solved the case, nae?”

“You call that solving a case?” I snapped. It was too late at night for me to keep my temper in check, and it only irritated me more that he was standing between me and the exit.

“We found the murderer! Partly thanks to yer pretty notes which were nae, I admit, bloody useless. And now we got a confession out of him and he’s safely behind bars.”

All of that was true. It was very much not the point.

“And we still don’t know _how_ he did any of it!”

“Course we know! Magic. I told ye he was some sort of sorcerer the moment we found those books in his home.” McGray smiled at me like a child presented with the gift of his dreams, and as always it boggled my mind that a man as intelligent and well-read as him so readily accepted the kind of superstitious nonsense I’d always thought the purview of the uneducated masses. I breathed in slowly to calm myself and then sighed.

“Believe what you want, McGray. But don’t expect me to agree with you, and most certainly do not expect me to argue with you about it when I’ve barely slept in two days.”

I already knew that he would rub this under my nose forever, as if our failure to find the scientific explanation that no doubt existed proved that the real culprit had been magic and spells and similar hogwash. I stubbornly tried to shoulder my way past him – out of the cramped dampness of our office and away from McGray’s smug face.

To my dismay he had no intention of letting me pass, and although I was hardly weak, trying to move McGray against his will would have taken at least three men. What I did not expect was for him to grab me by the shoulders, flip us around and push me back against the door. In an instant he was pressed against me, large and warm and, as loath as I was to admit it, quite familiar.

“No need to get all worked up, lassie. We did good work, that’s what matters.” His voice had dropped lower and lost at least some of the smugness, and this close I could feel it rumble through his chest. It was almost soothing my frayed nerves, especially once he squeezed my shoulders lightly. It had been over a week since I’d last felt his hands on me – since before the murder and both of us spending every waking minute trying to solve it. Neither of us was very good at distracting ourselves with anything pleasant when we had work to do. I wouldn’t have said that I had missed it, and it was hardly as if we did this regularly enough to call it a habit, but it was – good to feel his touch again. And this wasn’t too … well, he most certainly was too close, but his touch could still pass as merely friendly. If anyone saw this, it would most certainly look strange, but not quite scandalous yet.

“I did,” I replied. “You mostly went on and on about spells and contributed very little to the actual solving of the case, apart from running much faster than our suspect.”

“Och, Percy, I know ye like pretending I’m some sort of brute when I ravish ye, but there’s no need to be mean about it,” McGray said with a grin, immediately shattering what little calm I was just finding. I smacked his chest, not that it did much to move his bulk away from me.

“Watch what you say!” I glanced over my shoulder, even though I knew the door was closed and couldn’t possibly be opened while I was pressed against it. Still, we were at the office. Our _police_ office. It hardly struck me as prudent to discuss the extremely illegal things we occasionally did in the privacy of our homes _here_ of all places. Or anywhere, for that matter.

“All right, we won’t have to say a word.” His grin made it quite clear I was in trouble even before his hands slid lower, down to my hips, and he kissed me hard enough to muffle any protests. Despite the circumstances and my bad mood and our present location, it felt dreadfully good. McGray’s kisses were always dizzying – he brought to them the same unshakeable determination and focus as he did to his work, and for a few moments the world seemed to narrow down to nothing but him, his lips against mine, his tongue teasing mine, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me so close I could feel the full length of him against me.

It wasn’t until he broke the kiss and brushed his stubbly, rough cheek against mine that I remembered where we were and started another attempt to shove him away.

“Are you out of your mind?” I hissed, keeping my voice low. I knew I would hear anyone arriving on the stairs to our office even before they knocked, but this was – it was bad enough that we kept ending up in his or my bed, but at least that was behind closed doors, in our own homes, where nobody was likely to come knocking only to find us in a most compromising position. “Somebody could come looking for us!”

“In the middle of the night, when our case is done with?” He sounded sceptical, and I hated that I couldn’t even disagree with him. His right hand was pressed against the small of my back, slipped underneath my jacket so only the soft fabric of my shirt separated his touch from my skin. Maybe I _had_ missed his hands, the firm pressure of those long fingers, the way his callouses caught on my much smoother skin. McGray was worryingly good at this. I didn’t even want to imagine where he’d gathered his experience in such matters.

“Who’s going to come down here, hm?” he pressed on, clearly trying to get me to admit that he was right. “Ye always say even ye don’t like coming here.”

I couldn’t help but snort at that, and I didn’t turn my head aside when he put his left hand to my cheek, stroking it lightly. That much was true; I couldn’t imagine anyone voluntarily entering into this dump. That also meant that I wasn’t particularly inclined to stay here any longer than I had to, but McGray didn’t seem to plan on leaving me much of a choice in the matter. For once I couldn’t say I minded quite as much as I ought to. I breathed out slowly when he ran his thumb over my chin, then up to my bottom lip. I was _not_ going to take it into my mouth, not when I knew where McGray’s hands had been over the course of the day, but I still enjoyed the light pressure against it, remembered the way those fingers felt against other parts of my body. My thoughts must have shown on my face, because a downright triumphant smile crossed his features.

“That’s better. We deserve a little celebration, I’d say.” His right hand was untucking my shirt now, and I shuddered when I felt it against my skin. Probably the only thing that might ever make me believe in magic was how easy it was for McGray to talk me into this. Every time my very reasonable objections didn’t hold up past the touch of his hands and his lips and the way his voice sounded when he whispered the filthiest promises against my skin. It was almost like being hypnotised, except I knew that I only had myself to blame for this particular weakness.

“What I deserve, McGray, is a bath, a generous nightcap and at least ten hours of uninterrupted sleep,” I said, even as I made no attempt to disentangle myself from him. I felt the tension seep out of my back underneath the warm caress of his hands, felt myself melt against him even while I still resisted the urge to touch him in return.

“Ye’ll get your beauty sleep, lassie, but it can wait a little.”

I bristled somewhat at his words, but any further objections were muffled by another kiss – and this time I gave up and pulled him close, one hand grabbing a fistful of McGray’s windswept hair, the other pressing against his broad chest without even a half-hearted attempt to push him away. Maybe I deserved to go home to my bed, but what I needed first was to stop brooding.

Considering where we were, I hardly expected McGray to do more than to keep kissing me for a while, but after only a few moments his grip on me shifted and then, with almost insulting ease, he lifted me up. I let out a strangled sound of surprise even as I tried to hold on to him with my arms and legs so as not to end up sprawled out on the filthy floor of our office. 

“What on earth are you doing, you madman?”

It was undignified, having to cling to him like this, and at the same time it brought a flush to my face to feel his strength so intimately. How easily he held me up, the thick bulk of his body between my legs when I wrapped them around his hips, and how could that not have reminded me of certain unspeakable things I’d let him do in the past? His face was pressed against my neck, rough stubble and a smile I’d come to both dread and yearn for.

“I’m getting ye more comfortable, Percy, stop complaining,” he said. I did not stop complaining as he carried me through the room like this, though he did at least have the decency to put me down on my own desk – not only was it somewhat hidden from view if anyone came through the door, but it also had the distinct advantage of being the only clean surface in the room. McGray’s desk was, as usual, littered with books, greasy food wrappings and a variety of other things I could not and did not wish to identify. If he’d put me down on _that_ , I would have kicked him in the groin.

“There ye are,” he mumbled against my neck, still pressed so very close to me. I’d kept my legs and arms where they were, tightly wrapped around him, my hand in his hair again. He was nuzzling my neck right above the collar, and when I made the mistake of cocking my head to the side to give him better access, he bit me ever so lightly, tender but lingering long enough that I found myself writhing against him.

“We are – we are _not_ doing this here,” I protested, but I only pulled on his hair lightly, in a way I knew would cause him to moan against my skin, and I enjoyed feeling his hard cock against mine through the many layers of our clothes far more than I’d ever admit. There was something so dreadfully primal about this that I knew I should have loathed, but all the very good reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this – leaving aside the illegality of it all, it was undignified and crude, and McGray was most certainly the last man in the entire world whose company anyone with an inkling of taste should desire – never won a single argument against the sensation of his body against mine. On some days it made me hate him a little bit more than I already did, but that night, it might have been the only thing that could have possibly lifted my mood.

“I have a feeling ye don’t really mean that,” McGray teased after another lingering bite. He only pulled back enough to look at me – still that same twinkle in his eyes as earlier tonight, and I’d been right in my assessment, I did quite like it – and then shamelessly groped my cock through my trousers. I bit my lip to stay quiet, even as I knew it was a lost cause. I was never quiet by the time McGray was done with me.

“You do know that if anyone comes through that door, we’ll have to kill them.” Nobody would come in, I knew that, but the very idea sent a forbidden thrill down my spine. As if this weren’t already forbidden enough.

“That’d almost be worth it just to see my pretty English rose get his dainty hands dirty.”

I punched him in the shoulder, then dragged him in for another kiss, biting his bottom lip harder than he’d bitten me and drawing another desperate groan from his lips. We hadn’t exactly made a habit of this, but we had done it often enough that I knew some of the things he liked. A few bites during kisses, a sharp pull on his hair every now and then, a scratch of my nails down his back while he was inside me – not that I would allow _that_ to happen on my desk. I knew the sounds he made when I ran my fingertips over his cock to tease him and the sounds he made when I took it in hand more firmly, and I knew the way his breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut right before he spilt over my fingers or – elsewhere. I knew how his face softened afterwards, the premature lines around his eyes and mouth smoothing out, his lids heavy, his mouth languid when he leant in for another kiss. I knew all those things in enough detail that the dizzying memories could fill my fantasies for a lifetime if I ever found the wherewithal to stop doing this for good.

He was breathing heavily by the time our lips parted, and my chin burnt a little from his damned stubble. Some day I’d either manage to convince him to shave daily or to grow out a proper beard. This was simply untenable. 

“Hush, don’t complain,” McGray said as if he’d read my mind. He ran his thumb gently over my chin again, pressed another brief, almost sweet kiss to my lips. But before I had a chance to do so, or to say anything else, he slipped out of my grasp and down onto his knees between my legs. His hands pulled me to the very edge of the desk before they started undoing my trousers in such a hurry, as if he were as desperate to touch me as I was to be touched. I knew this was the last moment I could have stopped him – while we were still halfway decent, while we weren’t so far gone yet that we couldn’t help ourselves – but I couldn’t make myself let go of his hair, couldn’t look away from that wild expression in his eyes. If only McGray had had the decency not to be so unbearably handsome.

I bit my lip, harder than he had before, when he took my cock in his hand and gave it a slow, teasing stroke. He always liked to take his time at first, just long enough to make me squirm and demand more. There was something almost mesmerising about seeing my cock in another man’s hand, especially in McGray’s – so much larger and broader than my own, more calloused and rough, his touch always more gentle than one would have expected from a man of his size and yet so very different from how I touched myself.

“Been long enough that I almost forgot ye even got a pretty cock, Percy,” he said and grinned when I very predictably flushed.

“Oh, you’re not supposed to look at it, but to do something with it!” I exclaimed and bit my lip again when I realised I’d raised my voice. He laughed, of course he did, and stroked me again.

“Something, hm?” he teased, but either he took pity on me or he wasn’t planning to spend half the night on his knees in our filthy office floor either, because the next moment he wrapped his lips around me and took me in deep enough that I whimpered. We didn’t do this very often – it struck me as particularly crass somehow, like something best left to harlots and streetwalkers, though I had to admit that it felt unspeakably good when McGray did it (I would never admit how much I liked the heaviness of his prick in my own mouth, how much I’d enjoyed tasting him, the few times I’d been so out of my mind that I’d agreed to doing it myself). Once again I didn’t want to imagine where McGray had learnt how to do this so well, which was all for the better because I could hardly keep a clear thought in my head when his tongue swirled around the tip of my cock.

I held on to his hair desperately as if I needed to make sure he wouldn’t stop, and raised my other hand to cover my mouth and muffle the sounds that escaped me. I could not keep quiet when he did that, could not do anything at all but close my eyes and try to pull him closer with my legs around his shoulders. It was simply too much, after this endless week of work and tension, and I felt all my weariness drain from me and be replaced with nothing but that blissful sensation of his lips and his tongue and his large hands steadily keeping me in place. I must have whimpered into my hand, moaned and gasped and quite possibly begged, though I certainly hoped he couldn’t make out any words of that. Either way he did not stop, did not tease me, simply led me down that path of mindless pleasure until it was all I could feel.

It almost took me by surprise, the suddenness with which I came in his mouth, my cock twitching against his tongue. I only opened my eyes in time to watch him swallow, his eyes half-hooded with pleasure, at least until he looked up at me with a distinctly smug expression. McGray was infuriatingly good at looking smug even while he had a cock in his mouth. And even more so once he let it slip out and licked his lips.

“May I look at it now?” he asked with an exaggerated politeness that was entirely at odds with the hoarseness of his voice. And with McGray’s entire crude personality, for that matter.

“Oh, do be quiet.” I failed utterly to sound put upon, and he only grinned when I pulled on his hair to get him back onto his feet. He complied quickly and just a moment later he was pressed back against me, his dreadful tartan brushing over my sensitive cock, his lips meeting mine for another kiss – I should have minded that, I thought, tasting myself in his mouth when I licked into it. I most certainly did not, any more than I minded him grabbing my wrist to guide my hand to his own cock.

Maybe McGray had been right, after all. Not about our suspect murdering another man with magic, of course, that was utter nonsense that I knew I’d have to argue about with him for months. But he had been right that my bed and my very well-deserved rest could wait just a little while longer.


End file.
